


Fire

by Deadlydollies13



Series: Fictober 2019 [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Autumn, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fictober 2019, Fire, Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love, M/M, October, Sensory Overload, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), fall - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-12-01 21:15:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20901689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deadlydollies13/pseuds/Deadlydollies13
Summary: Fire is an ever-present thing in the lives of Aziraphale and Crowley, but sometimes, it is just too much...





	Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Not even the 4th day and I'm already behind on Fictober. To be fair, I did have a midterm paper due today and another Midterm exam today.

Fire was everywhere in the Cottage. It was in the fireplace, it was in Crowley’s hair— and Eve’s too— it was in Aziraphale’s soul and behind Eve’s words when she spoke about something she was passionate about. But there was no greater fire than the kind that came from love. 

It burned between Crowley and Aziraphale, hotter than the sun. Angels can sense love, like waves of warm and fuzzy feelings. Aziraphale had always felt it around Crowley, even if he was too afraid to admit to himself that’s what it was. But when they both finally admitted their love to one another, it burned hot, hotter than Hellfire. 

The heat was addicting, like a child who can’t resist putting their hand above a candle flame. It was the only time Crowley actually felt warm. 

But there were also times that it was too much. Angels’ senses were heightened. It wasn’t _just_ love they could sense; it was everything. And so, Aziraphale sometimes felt overwhelmed. It’s not like the sensation of love ever dwindled. In fact, most days, he could sense it growing even stronger. And on top of everything else, it was sensory overload. 

Those days Aziraphale spent huddled up in his bedroom. He would curl up in a soft blanket with the lights off and curtains drawn, a cup of hot cocoa next to his bed, even if he didn’t touch it, but just to know it was there. Aziraphale did absolutely nothing, just spending the day staring at the ceiling, trying to will away the sensation that his entire body, right down to his bone, was on fire or going to explode. 

Demons did not experience this. They, alternatively, were touch-starved, and therefore, sensory-starved. Even if it was pain, it was still a sense, and Demons craved it. So naturally, Crowley basked in the fiery-hot love between him and Aziraphale. It made his entire body tingle with delight. He had an addiction and no plans on going cold-turkey. Still, he understood when Aziraphale needed some space and respected that. Of course, he did. That was his Angel, and if he told him to, he would stay away for days. 

But it never got to that. Besides, it was good for them to still have their alone-time from one another. Aziraphale would stay in bed and read a book, and Crowley would take the opportunity to tend to his garden and discipline his plants the way Aziraphale wasn’t fond of. 

Those days always ended the same way though: with Crowley slowly coming back to their bedroom and sliding into bed next to his Angel. It was something Aziraphale had to ease back into; each time they touched, it felt like a spark igniting the fire. Slowly but surely, Aziraphale would get used to it again, his senses at ease after their recharge, and found his place back in Crowley’s arms. Crowley would do nothing except hold him close.

**Author's Note:**

> In the meantime, come hang out with me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/EmilieCrossan1) @EmilieCrossan1


End file.
